


worship like a dog

by JoanofArc



Series: darejones [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Kinda, LITERALLY, NSFW, PWP, Smut, Team as Family, and jess and matt fuck, and they love each other, because... have you seen matthew murdock, but it's also super fluffy, defenders are family fight me on that, it's sex, it's... very kinky sex okay, nothing wrong ever happens to them, so hey, there isn't enough smut for this pairing so I decided to give it to them, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoanofArc/pseuds/JoanofArc
Summary: it's danny's birthday party. jess and matt celebrate, but not in the way you'd think. (exactly in the way you'd think.)





	worship like a dog

thing is, she doesn't even want to be here. in a fucking limo, wearing an actual fucking dress, make up, for once, pristine and pretty like she knows she can be if she puts enough effort into it. but it's danny's birthday, and he begged her to come, and please please please, jess, there won't be that many people, and i really want you to be there too, _please._

and she likes danny enough. sure, he's got issues, and enough mysticism crap to put doctor strange to shame if he really wanted to, but he's a good kid. a little over eager, like a puppy who's getting attention for the first time in his life and just can't get enough of it.

("you're the big sister he never had. he respects you," colleen says, her smile razor sharp and soft at the same time. and it's colleen now, not wing, not _crazy ninja chick,_ because between saving new york again, mandatory dinners together she's starting to attend more often, and talking shit about the guys over a couple bottles of good wine, they actually got to know each other. sometimes claire joins, and it's never awkward between them, but there's a whole lot more of talking shit.

"i had a little brother," jess replies, monotone, leaves it at that. the next time she sees danny, though, she smiles, and he lights up like a kid on christmas)

which brings here to here and now, dolled up, matt's hand heavy and warm on her thigh, a constant heat point at her side. oh, yeah. _matt._

it really should be illegal for someone to look that good in a tux, and the fucker knows it, because he actually smirked when he came pick her up, doing a little spin before asking, in a tone that drips sarcasm, if he'll do. the only reason she didn't punch him _(again)_ is because she didn't want him to show up to the party with a bruised face.

it actually helps that he wants to be here about as much as she does, because it took almost as much whining from danny to get him to come, but he gave in as soon as she did. she thinks he was just playing hard to get, though, because he absolutely thrives in environments like this one. 

they've got a weird thing going on, her and matt. he brings her breakfast and sometimes lunch, pretends he bought too much again with a lie that is so see through it's almost laughable, but she eats the damn food anyway, because it's not her place to tell him what to do with his money.

she goes out with him at night, just to keep an eye out in him, and because her client's husband or cousin or whatever happens to be in the exact area he's doing parkour in, but he doesn't call her out on it, and she helps him rough up a couple dudes here and there.

there is something inherently terrifying about the devil of hell's kitchen showing up with jessica jones in tow. she pretends she doesn't like it. he pretends he doesn't know she likes it. 

and then they patch each other up, hushed tones and firm fingers. her first aid kit gets restocked with actual first aid kit shit, and not only a couple rolls of tape and a half bottle of sad looking rubbing alcohol, because claire almost had a heart attack when she found out.

he takes her couch a lot, too, or she takes his, and it works without them having to label it.

but she's seen him. the rippling muscles, that fucking ass looking so good in that ugly bdsm suit, the way he licks his lips and smiles and god damn it, she has imagined how his stubble would feel on the inside of her thighs more often that she should.

sue her. he's attractive and she's in a very very long dry spell.

"we're here," he says, so close to her ear, and she suppresses a shiver. he catches on, because he smirks, but she pushes at his shoulder, smooths down her palms over her dress. it's red, thin straps over her shoulders and silk, ending in a slit to just about her hip, because she wants to be able to move in it. with the four of them, they never know when they're going to need to kick ass.

she's about to get out of the car, but matt stops her with a hand on the arm and a wiggle of his brows, which makes him look ridiculous, but she gives in because how could she not. he walks around to open the door for her himself, presents his hand with a cheeky smile and another of his damn raised eyebrows.

she snorts, but takes it. that dork. that fucking dork.

danny greets them at a door with a hug each, which she accepts with a roll of her eyes and a pat on his back. touching is still uncomfortable, but it's his birthday, he says, and she can't really say no to that even if she wanted to.

"you came!" he's all bubbly excitement, and he goes to hug jess again but she takes a step back and then sideways, using matt's body as a human shield. danny's face doesn't even change from the exuberant grin. 

"like we had a choice, iron boy." 

colleen presses a champagne glass into her hand with a wink, and then the two hosts get whisked away to greet more guests.

luke spots them from the other corner of the room, and makes a spectacle by waving excitedly with both his hands. he's standing by claire, who meets jessica's gaze and rolls her eyes. 

why are all the men in their life like this?

matt's hand on her back makes her jump, expression going feral, but it melts away when she sees the awed look on his face when his palm presses against skin. yeah.its pretty much backless, going down to her ass. it's really hard not to smirk, so she doesn't try to contain it, even as they weave through the crowd, his arm around her and her fingers curled around the tips of his in a pretend game of guiding him around.

"I bet you look beautiful, jess," he whispers in her ear, his stubble rasping against her bare shoulder. she feels her face flush, so she takes a big gulp from her glass. the bubbles fizzle all the way down to her belly, adding to the warmth his touch and nearness brings. 

"high praise from a blind guy, murdock," see says instead, just to make him laugh.

he's got a pretty laugh, the kind he shares with her more and more lately. it's not overly bright, but it has a soft quality to it, and it makes his whole face light up. it suits him, in a weird way. it's even more hilarious when she makes him laugh and he's in full devil gear. 

"why are we laughin'?" luke asks, suddenly next to them, an arm thrown around her shoulders while matt goes to kiss claire's cheek.

"matt thinks he's funny," she replies, eyes sparkling with mirth, and really, maybe this night isn't going to end in a fucking disaster. probably. _hopefully._ it's weird, to have something that resembles a family again, but before she can dwell too much on it, danny is back, suffering under luke's well intentioned hand on his head, ruffling his hair, heavy and brotherly and affectionate, and colleen is dragging her and claire away to get something stronger than champagne.

she throws matt an apologetic look he totally cannot see, but he smiles in her direction anyway, does a little shooing motion with his hand. 

"so, you and matt..." colleen starts, while the three of them are perched on the tall chairs by the bar, watching the bartender fix their drinks. she's not even subtle about it, teasing smile and all. 

jess snorts, and rolls her eyes, tries to shake off the unknown, unnamed feeling growing in her chest.

"there's no me and matt, wing."

"please, jess," claire this time, shoulder pressing together with hers, giving her a little nudge. claire is the most observant out of the rest of them, barring matt, jess has noticed. she'd make a good private investigator if she wasn't so great at patching them up. "i've seen the way he looks at you. i know what a classic _smitten matt_ look is like"

thankfully, the barmat sets their drinks down, and jess has enough time to deflect by taking hers, draining it in one go. she asks for another just as fast, making the poor dude blink before he goes to pour again.

"there's nothing between me and matt," she says again, slower this time, letting each word hold its own weight.

the other two women share a look she can't decipher, not that she tries too hard, and then they change topics to safer things, like harlem being blown out again or how one of colleen's students almost set the dojo on fire.

jessica's gaze travels to matt, as if drawn by some unseen magnet. he's talking with someone, all polite smiles and charm, but he tilts his head towards her from time to time, probably listening in.

she moves, and the shift in her position makes the material of her dress slide over her leg, a cascade of crimson, exposing her thigh. she sees his jaw clench, a movement she spots only because she's watching him like a hawk.

embolded by the fact that claire and colleen have been tugged away by an excited danny and a just-as-excited-but-trying-not-to-show-it luke, she lets her fingers trail up her thigh, slow and steady, shifts so that the silk she's encased in can brush over her other leg, and she sees him swallow.

but then the bartender gets her another whiskey, complimenting her on her alcohol tolerance, and when she turns back to matt, he's already deep in conversation with a woman. former client, jess knows, because she's referred her to him, who is just a tad too flirty, a hand on his arm he does not shrug away.

whatever. it's not like jess has a claim on him, or anything.

"hey, beautiful," a voice to her left says, and she turns in her stool, tugging at her dress to cover her leg in the process. the dude isn't bad looking, tall and lean, but the smile on his face makes her a little uncomfortable. predatory. needy. usually, she's all for it, doesn't really care about the faceless body she brings to her bed (or the bathroom stall. or that time, in that deserted hall.) as long as it keeps its mouth shut. not now, though, for some reason.

sure, she's had one night stands since she and matt started doing... whatever the hell it is they're doing, but it's not the same. she hates him a little for it.

but hey, tall dark and stupid here wants her attention, he might as well earn it. if matt is busy flirting (and being her friend. just her friend. her friend who she allows to touch her, and who sometimes kisses her cheek and holds her hand.) maybe she can still get some. 

"can i help you?" she makes sure to drop her voice low, to purr our the syllables. dark eyes shadowed by long lashes, and lips red and full curling into a smile. the dude bites as if she's fucking chocolate. _predictibile._

"i was just wonderin' what a pretty girl like you was doin' over here, all by yourself?" he sits down on the stool next to hers, motioning to the bartender to top up her drink and give him one of his own. he doesn't need to do that, it's an open bar, and danny has practically harassed his staff into never asking his friends to pay for anything, but she lets it slide. his hand, again, predictibily, settles on her knee, and he reeks of cheap but trying to fake it cologne. he's the type of asshole she usually spends time following around, so for good measure, she looks at his hand for any sign of a ring. 

jess takes a moment to wonder if danny actually invited this dude to the party, or if he just showed up. people tend to do that, if they're as big as this one is, and rand is one for excess. 

it doesn't matter. she moves again, bends only a little, enough for her dress to do wonderful things for her boobs. tall dark and dumb can't seem to look anywhere else. 

"i lost my friends in the crowd," she says, nonchalant, sips on her whiskey because it's flirtier like this than if she just threw it back. or something. 

"well, i wouldn't mind keeping you company. i'm henry," henry says, letting his hand slide further up her leg, away from her knee. it's not that he's that much of a fumbling idiot, jess is just not giving him a fair chance, but then again, nobody gets one. 

she's about to pretend to giggle dumbly and lean into him when matt materialises by her side, his hand finding her shoulder, tugging at her a little until her back is crushes against his chest. 

"jess?" he asks, the asshole, even though he's all over her. at her affirmative huff, his worried facade breaks into a a relieved smile, still fake, "thank god, i got a little confused, and then danny said you were here. who's this, sweetheart?" 

sure, piss on her while you're at it, matthew, maybe then the whole room would get the hint. but henry does get the hint, because his hand moves away from her as if burnt, even as she rolls her eyes. 

"he says he's henry. we were just starting to talk, _honey,"_ there's venom in her voice, dripping down sucrose, but matt is undeterred. if anything, his smile only gets brighter. it should piss her off, but she only finds herself fighting a smile of her own. 

what's-his-face excuses himself as soon as he can, and matt takes his place by the bar, getting himself a beer. it's not the shitty brand he usually drinks, but it still has a fancy name she can't pronounce. snob. 

"jealous, murdock?" she times her question with the moment he takes a sip of his drink, watches him as he tries not to choke on his mouthful.

"ha - no. just wanted to check on you. see how you were doing. i know you don't like parties. or crowds."

"you're a shitty liar, matt, you know that, right?"

that gets her another laugh, but he's pulling at her hand until it's close to his mouth, presses his lips to the pulse point. this... this is new. and weird and uncharted and so, so _good._ her heart skips a beat and he smiles against her skin, the red lenses of his glasses shining in the dim light.

everything is red with him, like a brand. like blood spilling, always, always, always.

"maybe i was," he confesses, and it almost knocks the air out of her lungs. but she recovers quickly, tugging her hand out of his loose grip and running her fingers over his suit jacket, making a show out of adjusting his tie.

jess stands and he follows her, away from the bar and into the crowd, amidst the dancing people. her heels are tall enough that she's almost at the same height as him. she leans forwards, one hand on his shoulder, while his snake around her waist.

"yeah?" he hums his affirmative at that. she grins. "been thinking about me going home with that man? letting him undress me, letting his hands roam all over my body, making me moan? all the while thinking you can do better, you can get me there faster, harder?"

it's dangerous. she shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be giving in. but he straight up groans against her ear, low and rough, and nothing really matters anymore. because she likes it. likes the pressure of his hand on her back, lower than it should be, the burn of his stubble over her cheek when she leans closer to his ear, to him.

"he wanted to fuck me. and he would have. i would have let him, i would have pushed him down on the bed and..."

"yes." it's a fucking growl, his arm tightening around her, and they're swaying, sure, the music and chatter background noise, but all she can focus is the sound of her heartbeat, his breath in her ear.

gone is that sweet lawyer who wants to help anyone who needs it, who stumbles blindly through new york and says please and thank you. the kind man her neighbour positively adores, because he had flashed the old woman a smile and she keeps asking jess about him whenever they meet in the hall.

no, matt looks like he can eat her right then and there. there's something predatory is his smile, something decidedly sinful in the way he brushes his lips over her cheek. he would do it, if she asked him. would get down on his knees in the middle of this crowd, with danny and luke and colleen and claire looking on. let them, she almost says. let them look.

"we should go," matt grunts, shits his hold on her hand until his rests in the crook of her arm. it's all for show - he's guiding her around even as he pretends she's in charge, and she likes it, being one of the few people who know his dirty little secret.

" why counsellor, we haven't even had cake yet!" she's the picture perfect of innocent, voice soft and high in pitch, lashes batting theatrically, mouth slightly open. it's a pity he can't see the extent of it, but by the way he chuckles, he has a pretty good image in his head.

"we'll be back before cake," the snug bastard says.

"getting quite full of yourself, now, matt."

"you will, yeah."

that gets her to laugh, loud and genuine, enough to draw the attention of a few other guests, but she doesn't care, cannot care. the alcohol and the heat of his body and the way she feels safe here, even with all these people makes her feel light. she hasn't felt like this in years.

"you're an asshole, matt murdock."

but it's fond. he can see through her bullshit with ease, and isn't that the biggest of ironies? that a blind man gets to see through her as if she were spun glass, while others looked and looked and could never find cracks in her facade? they can't lie to each other. frustrating as it is at times, it's also what makes them work.

"you're acting like you don't like it."

he's holding her hand now, fingers linked together, guiding her out of the room and away from the people. nobody looks at them twice as they go up a flight of stairs and then another, past countless of identical doors. jessica wants to ask him how he knows where to go, but then his fingers are on a door knob and he twists, opening it with a triumphant grin.

she flips on the switch. there's a bed in here. of course there is a bed here. other furniture, too, but she's focusing on the bed. 

he's on her almost too fast for her to process it. his body crowds her against the door, his hand moving to her side, slipping deft fingers beneath the soft material. she knew touch is a big thing for him, but the way he moans as he runs his palm down her hip gives her a new understanding of it.

"god, i wanted to rip this off you all night.

"all night?" it comes a little breathless. he finds the slit down the side of her leg and pushes beneath it, gropes at her leg until he's got it hooked around his waist, his hips moving to root against her own and oh. oh _yes._ right there. 

"ever since we got in the car and you moved a little, and i could hear the way it shifted against your skin. i just had to touch it, to see how it would feel under my hands. how you'd feel under my hands."

jess might have replied, but his mouth finds hers, soft at first and then all at once, like the floodgates have opened and he can't get enough of her. his tongue works at the seam of her lips, brushing at the corner, before finding hers, teeth nipping and searching and fervid. it's like kissing liquid fire, tongues battling for dominance. 

her hands curl into the back of his jacket, but he's wearing too many layers, so she opts in favour to taking it off him first, and he actually laughs against her lips as she fumbles with his belt, fails at getting it to open. she'd rip it off, but they do have to go back at some point, so she groans to the echo of his chuckle. 

whatever. she can feel him hard and hot against her hip, changes the angle so she can grind up against him and it's not nearly enough pressure, but it feels good anyway.

"then you had to move, and fuck, jess..." he huffs, the fingers holding her thigh going up and up and up, until he reaches the juncture between her leg and where she needs him most, taking his sweet time to brush over the elastic of her panties, touching and yet not touching.

"it's _red,"_ she breaths out when he busies himself with sucking a bruise on her collarbone she definitely won't be able to hide, and is rewarded with a groan, low in his throat, almost feral. dude's got a colour scheme. might as well play along. 

he moves his other hand to her breast, tugs the dress down until her bra is exposed, so he can lower his mouth and trace his tongue under the lace trim. always so close to what she wants but not close enough, not hard enough.

"god, matt, fuck me."

 _"patience,_ miss jones." 

he smiles, that smile that makes heat build up in her belly, like he set her on fire. she lifts a hand to take off his glasses, tucks them into his pocket, and by then he's kissing her again, hard and rough just like she likes it, opening up to him, tongues curling together. he swallow her moan when he finally runs his fingers over her, circling around her clit.

she feels like a live wire, like everything he touches is going to explode, and he's barely done anything to her, but then he tugs the material of her underwear to her side. she's already so wet for him he can slip a finger in with ease, and then another, curling them towards him, palm grinding against her and she whines, nearly sobs, because it feel so, so good.

"shhh, you have to be quiet, jess. can you be quiet for me?" his voice is like honey, soothing out the sting of his teeth when he sinks them into her deltoid. she glares at him, but it's half hearted, and it goes away quickly because he's already kneeling down, moving her leg from his waist over his shoulder. they're both still fully clothed, even as he hooks her fingers into her panties and pulls them down, helps her our of them when they get stuck on her heel.

"wanted to do this for so long. been wanting to taste you," he whispers, and he could be saying anything to her right now and she wouldn't care. she's thankful for the door behind her because when his tongue takes the first tentative lick, her knees almost give out. he steadies her with a hand on her hip, her fingers clawing at the door hard enough to leave marks but she doesn't give a fuck about that in this very moment.

he moans against her, like she's the most delicious thing he has ever put his mouth on, long fingers rubbing circles into her hip, the calluses rough on her skin, but his tongue starts kitty licking at her clit, short little motions that have her head positively spinning. he's careful to alternate pressures and patterns, seeks out what she likes best, from slow drags of his tongue over her cunt to sucking at her clit almost greedily. 

"fuck - _more,"_ it's a demand, because she's nothing if not bossy, but he complies, slipping both his fingers back inside her, reaching for that spot deep inside her while his lips close around her and suck, gentle and then not so gentle when she moans. she's seeing stars, has to press the back of her hand to her mouth to keep quiet, because there's still a party going on, and she doesn't want him to stop. not now, not _ever._

"c'mon, sweetheart, give it to me," he whispers, and it's that, paired with the way his hand speeds up that gets her crying out, sobbing out his name, over and over and over, shaking so hard it's a miracle the whole building doesn't fall apart. 

he pulls back to sit on his heels, looking smug and satisfied with himself, head tilted to the side in that way of his which tells her he's listening to her. she reaches over to wipe at his mouth, and he waits, patient and gentle, pressing little kisses to her fingertips, until she can breathe properly again.

"didn't learn that from catholic school," she breaths out, dizzy, feels his grin against her hip.

"oh, you'd be surprised."

they laugh together, breathless and happy. when he stands up, jessica has regained her balance, so she swats his hands away, works his shirt open herself, sliding it off his shoulders. he's a puzzle of scars, held together by firm muscle and lean tendon. she can't help herself, so she runs her fingers up his chest, and then does it again, because she likes the way he shivers under her touch.

he's tugging at his belt, pulling down his pants while she works on the zipper of her dress, letting it slide down her body and at her feet in a pool of crimson. it makes him growl again, so she smirks, reaches behind her to unclasp her bra until she's wearing nothing but her heels.

"I think you promised me i'd be full of you, counsellor," she purrs, leaning over to mouth at his neck, teeth nipping at the pulsing tendon there, his hands big and heavy at her hips.

she walks him backwards until they're near the bed, where she gives him a little push, easily climbing over him, hovering and not touching. he's straining against his boxers, mouth open, breathing hard. she finds she quite likes him like this, a little less smug and more than ready to touch her again.

so he does. a hand running over her back, then down her front, cupping one of her breasts and twisting at a nipple until she moans again, until she lowers her hips so that she can grind on his clothed dick, and the texture of it against her sensitive clit makes her cry out.

that's where her little show of dominance ends, though. he shifts her until she's straddling one of his thighs, his fingers digging almost painfully into her hips, but she likes the way he doesn't treat her like she's porcelain, because he knows she can take it.

"want you to come again first. want to feel you come apart over my leg," he tells her, all wicked seriousness, guiding her hips in circles over his thigh. he raises it a little to give her more space, and the movement makes her whine, her head falling to rest on his shoulder, mouthing at his collarbone, anything to keep her from screaming. it feels good like this, and she's slick enough from her previous orgasm that she can glide on easily, but the way he sometimes bounces his thigh makes her want to cry.

"matt-" a gasp, a choked out sob, her nails digging into his arms, muscles hard under her fingers.

"that's it. that's it, jess, take what you want, you're doing so good for me."

normally, she'd punch him for saying shit like that, but now it does something to her, and he knows, if only because she gets wetter and she clenches against nothing at his words. he speeds up the pace, pushes her harder against his leg while she fights to remain afloat, to keep on breathing.

he moves her so that she's grinding on his knee instead, the joint firm and so, so, so good, leans up to take her beast in his mouth, gnawing at a nipppe, circling it with his (very) talented tongue, before he moves to the other. 

the pleasure is almost blinding, white hot and surreal, electricity running through her veins wherever his skin touches hers.

"matt - _more,"_ she whines, and he grins against the top of her head. he's so hard against her leg, and fuck, he's enjoying this, he's getting off on this almost as much as she is. it's that thought which pushes her over the edge, but he helps her ride our the orgasm, his hands guiding her hips even as she collapses against his chest, breathing hard.

his palms move from her hips to her back, rubbing it gently while she catches her breath. there are so many facets to him, so many edges, but he still has the strength in him to remain gentle.

matt presses a kiss to the top of her head, then to her lips when she tilts back, but this one is slow and languid, his tongue caressing hers almost reverently. like she's holy fucking communion.

it takes maybe thirty seconds for jessica to be ready to go again, but this time she pushes at his boxers, tugging until they're off, and her hand can close around his cock, gently moving up and down. he makes a strangled little noise, so she repeats the process to get it again.

"shh, you have to be quiet, matt," she mocks back at him, her grin satisfied and teasing. he's got his mouth open, a witty retort on his tongue, but she's lowering herself on him, so he bites at his lip instead. he's big. she's had bigger, but the way he stretches her out, reaching almost all pleasure points inside of her feels so good, for a moment all she can do is sit there, hips joined, breathing together.

he has his eyes closed, lips moving slightly, maybe in prayer or maybe in something else. she gives a tentative little roll of her hips, and his hands find their way back at her waist, clenched tight.

"you're gonna... _kill_ me," he grunts out. she grins, wide and free, moves her hips a little more, until she's got a steady pace that she likes, hard and fast, her hands at the headboard making the wood creak. matt's a moaning mess under her, and then his hand sneaks between their bodies, the pressure harsh just like she likes it. she falters, a curse on her tongue, or maybe his name, his free hand twisted in her hair.

she clenches around him, and it's that that prompts him to flip them over. she whines at the loss, but then he's pushing back inside her, one of her legs over his shoulder until she's almost bent in half, her heels digging into his back so hard she knows he's going to bruise and oh, fuck, this angle changes everything, as he pumps his hips against hers, his fingers still working on her clit.

he shushes her again, but she only moans louder, so he presses his palm to her mouth, her nails digging so hard in his back she's pretty sure he's going to have permanent marks embedded into his flesh. she sinks her teeth into the fleshy part of his hand, not enough to draw blood, but enough to sting, and matt moans, returns the favour by biting into the underside of her breast. but then he's got her nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and - 

it doesn't take long for her to shatter again, to break into millions of tiny stars she wouldn't be able to gather back together if she tried. matt comes with her, settles on top of her after a couple more shallow thrusts, breathing hard.

 _"fuck,"_ jess pants out as he rolls to the side, pulling her to his chest. he huffs out a laugh, brushes a kiss over her forehead and it's this, out of everything else they did, which has her heart stuttering.

"yeah. we just did."

he laughs as she swats at his arm, but it's half hearted and soft, her muscles burning pleasantly.

"shit, your jokes keep getting worse and worse, matt."

she doesn't want to get up. doesn't want to lose this sense of contentment washing over her, matt's heartbeat a steady drum under her palm and his lips gentle pressure against her forehead.

but they have to. someone laughs loudly outside their little haven, and then noises from the party below start filtering through the bubble they created. they can't stay here forever.

thankfully, there's a tiny bathroom adjacent to the room, and she's starting to suspect that matt knew this too, but the full scope of his freaky spidey senses elude her, so whatever. it doesn't take long for them to get back to what resembles something presentable, even as her lipstick is all gone and the careful updo she had her hair in had to be turned into a half something or another. there's a bruise glaring at her at her collarbone, another on her shoulder. she's gonna kill him.

he looks smug and handsome as she comes out, his tie a little askew, his glasses on. she fixes his tie again, leans up to kiss his lips, chaste and sweet and gentle. 

they do get back to the party in time for cake, after he has pushed her against the wall of the room and again in the hallway. when they enter the room, claire raises an eyebrow at her and luke's got a shit eating grin on his face but it's fine, because matt has a hand on the small of her back, pressing her into his side, and danny's happiness is a little contagious.

so hey. maybe coming to this party wasn't the worst idea after all. 


End file.
